I prepared the below eulogy to read at my dad’s funeral. Many people said they loved it and thought it was a beautiful tribute. I’ve posted it here in the hope that someone else gains inspiration from this in some way. ♥

Thank you to everyone who could be here to celebrate My Dad’s life and extending a special thank you to those who could not be here with us today.

Each and every one of us has different memories, recollections and stories about Giovanni Blanda. One thing I am sure of is there are some common themes that run through them all – his love of family, people, fruit as well as his kind, fair and friendly nature – oh and he loved to chat!

Dad’s Australian journey began in 1963. Possessing a strong work ethic from his younger years on the farm in Italy, he was no stranger to hard work. His first job was in an electronics factory, however he found it too noisy and with little interaction with other people, he soon found himself in a job in a fruit shop in Leichhardt. A short while later, he found himself in another fruit shop in Rose Bay (there’s a common theme developing here J)

During his formative years he loved spending time with customers as it improved his English skills – to ensure his Australian journey would be a successful one. One of the things Dad loved to do in his youth was to attend 50-50 dances around Sydney – you don’t hear much about them anymore – It was at one of these dances where he met the charming Brenda with whom he fell in love. In 1969 they got married in Leichhardt.

To help you understand what drove my dad, you need to look no further than his honeymoon. He’d taken 2 weeks off work to honeymoon on the Gold Coast, but by the 8th day, he was itching to get back to work saying “they’ll be busy on Thursday”. Sure enough, on the Thursday he was back in the fruit shop. Dad truly loved his work.

Shortly after, he went to work at a fruit shop in Lakemba run by the late Biaggio Signorelli, becoming Biaggio’s first employee. This was the beginning of a beautiful friendship which lasted many years. Dad was to become Biaggio’s best friend.

Somewhere around 1974 dad was working 3 jobs to keep a roof over our heads and keep us fed – he was driving his own truck doing deliveries; working on the night train and working shifts at the Conca D’oro. He was also working towards opening his own business, which he did in 1976.

He opened a small fruit shop in Bondi Junction, moving 3 years later into larger premises. These were some of the happiest days of his life. The Eastern Suburbs Fruit Market held such fond memories for our family as it combined his 3 passions into 1 – family, fruit and people. After the shop closed, he spent time in many fruit shops around Sydney including Manly, Maroubra, Leichhardt and Rockdale, finally settling in at Caringbah where he worked for the last 15 years.

Outside of work he loved watching Soccer, especially his 2 favourite teams: APIA in the NSL and Liverpool in the English League. We would often go along to watch APIA play at Lambert Park – we spent more time playing with the other kids, not really following the game nor caring who won or lost. At the time I thought it was no big deal to go to the soccer with dad, only realising years later that it was a big deal to him – being there with his boys was more important than who won or lost the game. Ultimately it’s how he lived his life – it’s not who won or lost the game, but being there for your family and enjoying the journey together.

Speaking of journeys, dad preferred what could be termed a ‘simple’ holiday – he loved nothing more than to get in the car and go for a drive. We had memorable trips in and around various parts of Australia. He visited Italy only once since leaving in 1963 and came back stating how much Italy had changed since he remembered it as a boy. In a way, I think Australia had changed Dad in more ways than Italy had changed – Australia had won him over.

In the last few years he was inseparable from his buddy Luigi – they’d helped out many people – built walls, rainwater collection systems, driveways and other odd jobs around the place. Luigi became a regular part of the family.

Life is about teamwork – Together, through all Dad’s hard work and mum’s patience and dedication, they nurtured and raised 3 well-rounded men who understand the importance of family, working hard, and respecting others. Every day you can see the best parts of dad in my brothers and I. I live my life by the following motto – leave everything and everyone in a better state than when you found it – I credit this to my Dad.

I found a story a few weeks ago which sums up the way dad lived his life. It’s called Two days.

There are two days in every week about which we should not worry, two days which should be kept from fear and apprehension.

“One of these days is Yesterday with its mistakes and cares, its faults and blunders, its aches and pains. Yesterday has passed forever beyond our control. All the money in the world cannot bring back Yesterday. We cannot erase a single word we said. Yesterday is gone.

“The other day we should not worry about is Tomorrow with its possible adversities, its burdens, its large promise and poor performance. Tomorrow is also beyond our immediate control. Tomorrow’s sun will rise. Until it does, we have no stake in Tomorrow, for it is yet unborn.

“This leaves only one day – Today. Anyone can fight the battles of just one day. It is only when you and I add the burdens of those two awful eternities – Yesterday and Tomorrow – that we break down.

I never published the below post, which I had written on 30th March 2013. Dad passed away 2 days later.

Watching my dad’s declining health over the past couple of weeks has made me question the idea of knowing when it’s your time to go. Many out there do not wish to question “God’s” plan for themselves, but there has to come a time where we are able to make a decision on our own future.

This thought made me think back to the book Whose Life Is It Anyway for a great discourse on who has the right (if any) to control a life.

I picked up the title of this post from a randomly stumbled page on personal development, titled “45 life lessons from a 90 year old” – it came in at number 12. I’ll explain the significance of this later, but to fill in some detail, here goes:

My dad’s health is on the decline.

I wrote about this in my last blog post in 2012 and it’s now gotten to the stage where there’s more going against him than for him, physically speaking. He can still hold a conversation and remembers who’s visited, but the sad reality is that the body is failing. No-one knows when the time will come for him to leave us but whilst he’s still here, we’re doing what we can for him.

Today we began the funeral planning process – more to ease our minds as to what’s involved and how things progress once someone passes away and also to make rational decisions without overwhelming emotions clouding our judgement when the time comes. In speaking with our funeral director today I commented that the dearth of ‘funeral plans/funeral insurance’ ads on television are helping people look into these things before they’re needed. It’s going to be an unknown, difficult, emotional journey sometime so getting started and understanding what happens should help make things easier when the time comes.

Some may think it’s not the right time or place to talk about this, but in my world, it is an important topic to talk about. Especially for us men We have a habit of crawling back into our cave(s) at times like this. This is one of the places where I get to share with you how I see things and what’s on my mind. I decided to share this information for 2 reasons: 1) to help me document what’s important/happening in my life right now, and 2) (possibly) to educate others in some small way (this was also a topic of discussion with the funeral director today, about how we can learn from others).

I’ve spoken to my boys (7 & 10, soon to be 8 & 11) about their grandad and whilst I have used the words ‘death’, and ‘dying’ with them during the discussion, it’s been to make sure they are ready to hear those words when others start using them more frequently. In a way it may be an act of priming them to ensure they at least ‘know’ what’s coming – in no way can I guarantee it will help them understand what happens when the time comes. It’s a tough conversation to have but an important and essential one.

So, sometime over the next few days/weeks/months they may yet see us cry – and it’ll be a good thing as we’ve never shied away from it in the past and we’re not about to start now.

After a number of months in the wilderness (read: viral/malware attacks on my site) and the lack of time I had to spend on writing blog posts meant I have not had much of a communication channel for a while.

Some of you may have noted my twitter conversations dwindled, as well as my interactions on Facebook. I am still regularly posting pictures to Facebook/twitter as I do like sharing the weather from my part of the world and the discussions it’s opened up with various friends, followers, lurkers and stalkers.

So, my blog is back and I want to say I hope to become a part of your lives again 🙂

I’ve not posted much in the past couple of months as life’s become busier – work’s providing quite the challenge, junior soccer duties take up some time and doing many jobs in and around the house since we moved in have all conspired to keep me away from here. I’ve been ‘quiet’ online the past few months.

The much feared ‘C’ word has entered the inner sphere of our lives. It entered quite suddenly (on the surface, but we all believe it has been hidden for a while, waiting for the right time to jump out and present itself).

My dad has lung cancer.

He’s undergone radiotherapy and a round of chemotherapy, and at the moment he’s at home resting up, in preparation for a likely second round of chemotherapy. It’s all new territory for us and we have no idea where this journey will take us, so for now we’re just getting through each day/week as it comes to us.

It is affecting me in subtle ways, but nothing that I can put my finger on at the moment. If I seem aloof or not engaged with you, go easy on me.